Climbing Up The Walls
by Brilliantim
Summary: Kurt has needs that not even his beloved, perfect boyfriend Blaine can fill. But can his deep dark secret be kept and what if he is not the only one carrying twisted secrets? A bloody, killer!klaine fic. Hope you'll enjoy!


**Author's Note: Here I go again. I know, I have no business starting **_**another **_**multichapter, but I had to. This is nothing like what I usually write, but here I go.**

**WARNINGS FOR THIS FIC: This contains a HUGE blood!kink, will involve murder later, cutting (but not the miserable kind) and sex. Don't read if any of this upsets you or triggers you.**

**It is twisted and dark, but I hope you will like it anyway. I am thrilled to write this, even though I am a bit scared of your reactions. Well here it goes, the prologue.**

**. . . . .**

**Prologue: Creep**

_SATURDAY EVENING, 21:57._

The lights in the basement were switched off, the only illumination coming from the small lamps at the top of the huge vanity, shining upon the naked boy sitting in the accompanying chair. Upstairs, a football game was on and the sound of the television and two rather loud men was muffled by a thick oak door. It was a bit chilly inside, but he was used to that by now, having spent the majority of his childhood and most of his teenage life in there. His reflection made him look even paler than he was as the soft light reflected off his body, his face calm and expressionless as he glanced down at the knife placed on the surface in front of him, its sharpened edge glinting almost like a promise.

Kurt lifted his wrist to his face and licked at the skin just below the base of his palm, tracing the veins there with his tongue. He grabbed his knife with his other hand at the same time he lowered his wrist to rest in his lap. He felt his lips twitch into a small smile as he finally put the blade against his wrist, the cold metal against his skin making him shiver in anticipation. He knew he was supposed to feel horrified at what he was doing, but he didn't even a little bit. All he felt was excitement and actually, arousal. He took a deep shuddering breath and pressed the sharp tip of his knife into his skin, whimpering as the pain immediately turned into pleasure. He exhaled slowly, his eyes closed in concentration and he bit his lip as he dragged the knife across his wrist, cutting it open. He could feel the blood trickling down his arm, but he refused to look at it, knowing it would drive him wild. Instead he brought the knife up to his mouth and licked at the blade, carefully so that he wouldn't cut his tongue. He moaned at the rusty metallic taste of his own blood, licking the knife clean before putting it back down onto his vanity. He finally opened his eyes, staring into the mirror before him. The small smile was still playing at the corners of his lips, his face exceptionally composed other than that. His eyes were blown wide with lust, almost glinting black and he looked at his own naked reflection in the mirror. Maybe he was truly sick for doing this. Maybe his brain had snapped from all those times his head had hit those lockers back at McKinley. Maybe all that pain he had suffered had turned against him, making him into some kind of freak that now took pleasure from hurting. Why else would he be so turned on by his pain? By his blood?

He already had Blaine, his beautiful, dapper, understanding and sexy-as-hell boyfriend. Blaine who had no problems with fucking Kurt hard and rough until he screamed, but also enjoyed sweet lovemaking when that was what Kurt was in the mood for. He was truly absolutely perfect. Yet still Kurt felt the burning need to do this. He had to bleed, to hurt to just… just _feel_. He felt so alive with the blood pouring out from his wrist, warm and sticky as it dripped from his arm. His smile widened a little. Blaine wouldn't understand. Hell, _no one_ would. This was only Kurt's second time daring to do this that he had longed to do for so long. Last time he had cut his ankle where it was more easily hidden, but he had to feel _more_ than that. The wrist was more sensitive and therefore necessary and Kurt thanked all the stars in heaven that wrist-length fingerless gloves were in fashion right now. He could pull them off and no one would notice. If people noticed, there would be questions that Kurt rather would not answer. How would his friends, his lovely boyfriend, react if he told them that pain and blood made him hard aroused? Not that well, he figured.

He glanced down at his lap, his exposed cock completely hard and God, he just wanted to touch himself. Soon, soon he would do it. He looked back into his reflection and brought his uninjured hand to the wound on his left wrist. He pressed his index and middle finger to it and hissed with the pain, a shiver travelling down his spine as his cock twitched in excitement. He brought the now blood-soaked fingers to his collarbone and slid them along the bones on each side, not taking his eyes off the mirror. He repeated the action, this time spreading the blood from the base of his throat down to his bellybutton. His whole body trembled with need and lust as he watched himself, his reflection, get covered in his blood. He streaked his shoulders next, then two thick lines across his thighs, moaning softly. His eyes were wide as he finally brought his fingers to his face, drawing two lines over his cheekbones, one across his forehead and a small dot on his chin. He coated his fingers in a rich amount before bringing them to his lips, painting them red and dripping. He felt like he could come from this alone, seeing the blood contrast with his pale skin so beautifully. He took out a cleansing wipe and quickly cleaned his fingers off, throwing it in the bin before finally looking down at the wound on his wrist. God, it was amazing, the colour of roses. He brought another wipe to the wound, cleaning away dried that had travelled down his arm and new blood pouring out, he threw that one away as well and put a fresh compress on his wound. He wasn't planning on loosing to much blood, that would only make him faint or feel ill the next day. He didn't want that, no. He looked back into his blood painted face when he was finished, and bit his lip as he finally let his hand grip his achingly hard dick. The taste of the blood combined with the sensation of finally being touched made him moan loudly. He was thankful for the football game going on upstairs, drowning out his noises so that his family wouldn't hear him. He jerked himself rough and fast, he'd been waiting for release a long time now. He licked his lips clean of blood as he went harder with his fist, imagining that is was Blaine's calloused fingers doing the work, Blaine's blood he was licking off his lips. He thrust up harshly into his hand, groaning. Why did he find the blood so arousing? Was there something sick and wrong with him? He couldn't feel wrong. He only felt as though the blood perfected the sense of completion of the sensations. Like he could never be fully, one hundred percent aroused without it. He bit down on his lip hard, so hard that he could taste more blood and he jerked roughly once, twice more before coming hard onto his stomach with a strangled cry.

No one would understand this, he knew that. No one would understand why he now had to tear his eyes away from his reflection so that the sight of the blood wouldn't make him hard again. He took out more wipes and cleaned himself off without looking. If he missed something he would just take a shower in the morning. He finished his moisturizing routine on autopilot and slipped, naked and sated, into his warm bed. He missed Blaine now, his strong arms that would hold him tight after a good orgasm, the sweet affectionate words he would whisper into Kurt's ear as he drifted off to sleep. Kurt really, truly loved Blaine, more than anything. He wished with all his heart that he could share this with him, the deep animalistic urges he felt when he tasted the blood. But Blaine could never share this with him, he wouldn't understand and he would run away. Kurt would rather keep this a secret so that Blaine would stay with his. He could keep it a secret. His deep, dark, bloody secret. Kurt smiled crazily before letting himself slip into a comfortable sleep, his wrist throbbing still.

**. . . . .**

**Author's Note: Oh my god guys, what do you think? Seriously, I am nervous as hell. You should all know that I love psychopaths and serial killers (as in, fictional ones and not people in real life). Haha. This was born out of me missing the serial!Klaine thing that was going on last hiatus. And after reading several of those stories. **

**There will be no kind of cannibalism in this though, just other people's blood. Kurt might lick that. But other than that, you're safe. **

**Also I must say, I have NO IDEA of when football games are on in U.S. on TV so if the time is completely wrong sorry. It's fiction, haha.**

**Well, well stop reading my rambling and go on and review**** so I know if I dare to update.**

**As always, you are free to come love me on tumblr, **_**tickleme-doeface . tumblr . com **_**:3**

**Love you all *lessthanthree***


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